Without no end, there can never be peace
by 11Dancer14
Summary: Following Mahariel from the night before the battle, to when she and the Champion meet face to face. Struggling with two opposing worlds, the one every girl dreams of, and the one of the Hero of Ferelden, she finds out that even when you do everything right, things still can go horribly wrong. She stares down the return of Morrigan, and the betrayal of Anders.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So this started from a thought I had that if a Gray Warden had the taint, then either A) they couldn't have kids because the taint was slowly killing them/tainting their organs or B) any kid they had would have the Taint, AKA not able to have kids without them having a death sentence. Then, when I started it, I was going to end it after the scene on the bridge, and have it be a cute/sad moment following the Morrigan ritual. However, this thing morphed into a story about how, even if you're a good person (Which I'm portraying Mahariel as pretty much The Martyr minus the whole dying to kill the demon/Anora and Alistair on the throne) anyway, it becomes AU in that the Warden interacts with Anders (although no one is there, and that I have no idea what really transpired when Anders ran away from the Wardens) However, I hope you enjoy and constructive crit welcomed and any mistakes please point out!

* * *

When Riordan had first told her and Alistair of the secret behind killing the Archdemon she was shocked, barely able to make her way out the door. Mumbling a goodnight to Alistair, she had all but ran to her room.

And there stood Morrigan. Standing next to the fire looking for all intents and purposes, bored. Yet what the witch said changed everything. Morrigan talked, waving her arms around and telling her there was a way out, that no one had to die. She was skeptical, not completely trusting the witch who had accompanied her this far, yet she couldn't deny that she was curious.

"Don't you want to have your happily ever after?" The witch asks, her mocking tone indicating her opinion. "This is your way out, a way for you and your...Prince Charming to remain together."

She pauses at that, her eyebrows narrowing as she took in Morrigan's words. Stepping further into the room she crosses her arms, wanting to hide the feeling of panic that was crawling it's way up her chest.

"Riordan is the one that will be killing the Archdemon." She states, looking at Morrigan dead in the eye. "So unless there's something you're not telling me, there's no reason I should worry about my...happily ever after, as you put it."

Laughing in a way that could only be described as sinister, Morrigan fixes her stare on the other. "That is true, but do you really want to take the risk? So many things could happen in the heat of battle, one arrow alone could dash all your hopes and dreams."

"What...what exactly would happen to this child? To you?" The Warden tilts her head, struggling to keep her face a mask of relative disinterest.

Morrigan smiles at that, the fire casting shadows across her face. She explains, her hands now settled on her hips. "Then you let me go, and you don't follow."

"I will discuss it with Alistair, for it is not my decision to make." For a moment she feels better, stronger, as if the false words had somehow imbued her with a feeling a strength. Then she looked up, and saw Morrigan's face, the triumph that lay on her face as if it was at home.

"Maybe not, but I think you care very much for the ending yes? I will wait here while you go get Alistair."

The Warden walked out of the room, slowly closing the door behind her. The walk down the hall felt like eternity, yet she dreaded the moment she reached the end. Knocking once she waited, her gloves feeling rough and worn against her skin. She hears the rustle inside, and footsteps making their way towards her.

"Hey you, can't sleep either?" Alistair smiles down at her, his blond hair messy. "Come on it, I haven't been here long enough for there to be too much of a mess."

She smiles weakly, following him into the room. It looks a lot like her own, except it doesn't. It feels different, safer. There's no Morrigan in here, no dark ritual, no war waiting for her. Leaning against the wall he pulls her into his arms, resting his chin on her head. It's quiet for a moment, she breathes in, trying to forget the outside world.

"Alistair..." She pulls back, looking up at him. "I...you know I love you, right?"

"And I love you." Alistair grins, kissing her lightly. "So what's wrong? You're scaring me a little."

"I need you to do something, something you won't like." She whispers, running her hands along Alistair's face. "I need you to sleep with Morrigan."

Looking down at her, Alistair starts laughing, tugging her closer as his chest rumbled. "You're joking right? Okay, I get it, this is payback for all the jokes, you win."

"It's not a joke..." She whispers, her eyes downcast. "And I'm not going to lie, it's...it's going to produce a child."

"What?! You must be joking, because this can't...can't be true, it's ridiculous!" Alistair takes in her face, the way her eyes are downcast, her shoulders slumped forward. "Are...are you sure this is what you want me to do?"

"I can't lose you." She whispers, her eyes filling with tears. "I've already lost so much, given up so much, and I don't...I don't think I could do it again."

The warrior rocks her gently, his eyes closed as he presses his face into her hair. "All right, all right, let's go find Morrigan and get this over with."

They walk back down the hall, her hand in his. Before they open the door he pulls her close, kisses her for a moment before wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tight. Then she pushes the door open, leading him into the dark room. They are all only there for a moment, Morrigan laughing at Alistair's questions before leading him away. The second the door closes she collapses, leaning against the bed as she covers her face in her hands. She feels tears running down her cheeks and she angrily wipes them off her face.

She pulls herself back onto her feet and walks over to the mirror. Pulling off her armor, she grabs the red robe that is lying draped over the counter. Putting it on she sighs, untying the two buns her hair is in, allowing the black tresses to fall down her back.

She knows she's being selfish, she was the one who told him to do it, he hadn't wanted to do it for the Creator's sake. Yet she can't stop herself from shaking, dropping the brush as she tries to run it through her hair. Squeezing her eyes shut she breathes out, the exhale sounding loud against the silence. Making a decision she reopens her eyes and crosses the room. Opening the door she steps out once again into the hallway, making her way towards the main entrance.

Nodding to the guards she walks out into the courtyard, the moon shining light onto the grass, and the bodies that lay there. Refusing to look down at them, she makes her way onto the bridge. It's empty, as she expected and she sits down on the ledge, staring into the water below. She tries to stop herself, but soon the tears are rolling down her cheeks, landing on the stone and making dark little circles. Her tears soon become heaving sobs, and suddenly she's shaking, curled in on herself like a child. Breathing becomes difficult, and she wraps her arms around herself.

Suddenly there's a tongue on her foot. Jerking back she feels warm fur against her leg, and a soft whine as the Mabari tries to comfort her. Letting out a small smile, the Warden steadies herself before patting the area next to her. With a happy woof the Mabari flings himself onto the ledge, burying his face in her lap. Running her fingers through his hair, the Warden hiccups, the tears still running silently down her cheeks.

She sits there in silence, the Mabari having fallen asleep soon after arriving. The tears are less now, instead there's a hollow feeling in her chest. She wants to be angry, angry at Loghain for betraying the Wardens, at Morrigan for even telling her about the ritual and at Tamlen for touching the damn mirror in the first place. But she's not. As hard as she tries, she can't be angry anymore. She's sad, sad that all the men and women at Ostagar had to die because of one man's foolishness. Sad that Morrigan had this power over her, the ability to make her so upset, and sad that Tamlen, the elf she had always expected to spend the rest of her life with, was dead.

"There you are, Maker I was beginning to worry you'd ran off." Alistair's voice breaks her away from her thoughts, brings her dropping back down to reality.

She looks up at him and struggles to think of what to say. She gently pushes her dog off her lap, a snuffling noise the only protest. Hopping down onto the bridge she steps forward, the words, the lies, already making their way out of her mouth. He doesn't give her a chance. Stepping forward he pulls her into his arms and for the first time since that first night, there's no armor between them. He leans down, covering her mouth with his. He kisses her long and deep, his tongue tracing the inside of her mouth like a well worn map, his hands tangled in her hair.

He picks her up, causing her to wrap her legs around his waist as he places her on the ledge. She cups his face in her hands, pulling him impossibly closer. He breaks the kiss only to dip his head under her chin, sucking and kissing his way down. They make love against the ledge, her legs wrapped around his waist as the moonlight shines down on them. She gasps and moans and scratches his back when she comes, her neck a myriad of marks.

"I love you, more than anyone, anything." She whispers, and she feels the tears at the back her eyes, blinks them away because she doesn't want to cry anymore.

"I love you too, I love you so damn much." He whispers back, his voice thick with tears. "I always will."

* * *

They defeat the Archdemon. The overwhelming sense of relief when she wakes up, when they are both still alive makes her feel giddy. She reaches for him, covered in darkspawn blood and Creators know what else. She feels his lips against hers, his body against hers, and all she can think is that this is what true happiness feels like.

Then there's the party afterwords, Anora promising land to the Dalish and Amaranthine to the Wardens. The Wardens from Orlais arrive, and Lelianna and Sten say goodbye, Lelianna with the promise to return and Sten without. She and Alistair play dumb, claiming to have no idea why they survived when they shouldn't have. Then since there is no reason to suspect, the Wardens believe them. She gets made Warden Commander and gets assigned to rebuild Amaranthine. Alistair gets sent to the Free Marshes, to find new recruits. Zevran goes with him, and they all say goodbye to Wynne, and each other, before they leave.

She spends six months at the Keep alone. She and Alistair write constantly, and she writes about darkspawn, and the struggle with the new recruits. In return Alistair tells her of their adventures, Zevran often adding little notes, telling her about the various Crows they've killed so far. One day she receives a letter telling her that they will be at the Keep in a few months. She spends the next few weeks struggling with aristocrats, and with the new recruits. Nathaniel begins to warm up to her, accepting his life among the Wardens as all that he has left now. Oghren remains the same, and she sits and talks with him every once in a while, listening to his various stories. She encourages Anders to keep the cat, and to get rid of the robes that brand him a mage of the circle. She tries to help Justice, and she feels guilty every time she sees his rotting body.

Then the darkspawn attack. The adrenaline that runs through her body makes everything seem like a blur. When it's all finally over she feels exhausted, and she's barely able to stand when the darkspawn copses are finally gone. Later they're all sitting around the table, laughing as Anders lost the drinking game. She's feeling light, as if floating on air and then Oghren lets out a bellowing laugh and staggers towards the door.

"By the Paragons look who the cat dragged in!" The drunk dwarf lets out another laugh, throwing his arms around both Alistair and Zevran.

Rising to her feet, she smiles, stepping forward and into his arms. She feels his arms tightening around her, and she stands on her tiptoes to kiss him. She laughs when they break apart, her eyes bright as he swings her around. Zevran smiles at her, and she flings her arms around him too, laughing as she hears the assassin's familiar voice.

They spend the next six months rebuilding the Keep, Zevran teaching the recruits some new moves. It feels almost like the old times, and Lelianna writes to them, telling them of her adventures in Orlais. Then one day, it all goes wrong. She's walking through the Keep, Nathaniel telling her where he was going to take the new recruits for their first mission. Suddenly a door flies off the hinges, knocking both of them to the ground. She struggles to get up but before she can make it far Nathaniel pulls her back down, covering them both with the door. Irritated, she's about to ask why when suddenly, the air around them is hotter than anything she's felt before. She hears screams and the sounds of swords, and the footsteps as someone runs past them. Nathaniel pushes the door off of them, and she struggles to her feet, pain shooting through her body. She looks into the room, seeing the burnt husks lying there.

"Commander, this way." Nathaniel grabs her arm and helps her down the stairs. "You should see a healer, I'll take care of the intruder."

"No, no I'm fine." She smiles reassuringly and takes her arm back. "Let's go, we must hurry before they get away."

They follow the destruction into the courtyard, Wardens lying on the ground, wounded or dead. Fear grips her chest, makes it tight. But she breathes in deeply, and it disappears, if only temporarily. Forcing herself to keep moving forward she sees a figure in the distance, surrounded by the group of recruits.

"Back away! Stand down!" She screams, her voice hoarse from all the smoke she's inhaled. She sees the figure raise his hands and the fire beginning to swirl around, licking at feet of the Wardens. She pushes herself faster, sprinting towards the swirling flames.

She sees Nathaniel at her side but it at the same time she doesn't, the world becomes that blur again, and all the pain fades away. Running towards the figure she can already tell she won't make it in time. She sees it seconds before it actually happens, grabs Nathaniel and drops to the ground, covering him with her body. She feels the heat again, except this time she feels it burning, covering her from inside and out. She rolls, pulling Nathaniel behind a bush. Her entire body feels fried, and there's blood everywhere, and not just her's. Yet still she pulls herself to her feet and begins to stagger forward.

"Wait!" She croaks out, every step feeling like a ogre was choking her. "Anders!"

It was a wild guess, the only thing she had to go on was the green robes that covered the figure. Yet it seemed she was right, for the person stopped, and turned around. The blond hair was messed up, his eyes bright blue.

"You! You all were suppose to be my friends! Instead, instead you all betray me!" He's shaking, his hands clenched into fists. "And now...now you will pay!"

He flings his hands downward, and suddenly she's flying through the air. She hears Nathaniel screaming, and she sees him, up close and personal. She feels his arms around her, hears the footsteps of other people, sees the blue glow of magic as it surrounds her. Her vision begins to be tinted with black, and she feels the stirrings of panic, struggles to move as the darkness grows.

"It's going to be okay love, it's be all right." She quiets when she hears his voice, when she feels his hand on her shoulder. Then, everything goes black.

When she wakes up she's in a bed with a healer hovering over her. Trying to move her arm the healer shakes her head before gently pressing down on her shoulder. "None of that dear, you've sustained quite some injuries."

She closes her eyes, and allows herself to fall back asleep.

She spends the next several weeks fading in and out of consciousness. When she does finally wake up for more than a few minutes she sees Alistair sitting next to her. She smiles when they make eye contact, and he leans over and kisses her gently on the forehead. She pushes the blanket away, feeling weaker than ever. She sees the healer come up and help her, pulling it away just enough so she can see the bandages wrapped around her body.

"What...what happened to me?" She whispers, tightening her grip on Alistair's hand. "And Nathaniel, what happened to Nathaniel?"

"You're going to be fine, it was serious but...you're okay, and Nathaniel's okay, he woke up months ago." Alistair runs his hand through her hair. "Zevran and I have to leave, orders of the Wardens. I've been delaying for weeks but they're getting impatient. I'll be back as soon as possible, I promise."

"Go, I'll be fine..." She smiles, leaning up for a kiss. "I'll be here, healthy and whole when you get back, just promise me you'll come back."

"I promise, I'll come back." The warrior kisses her again before squeezing her hand tightly. "I love you."

The next few months past by in blur, she got stronger, began to work harder. She rebuilt Amaranthine with Nathaniel by her side and life seemed to be continuing as normal. They hunted for Anders, yet they found nothing. Eventually it settled into the dust, and all that remained of him were the scars they carried on their bodies. She wrote Alistair as always, and sometimes, when it was dark and she was lying in bed, she would dream of babies, little elflings and humans running around. Then her dream would twist, becoming a dark nightmare where she was alone in the darkness. She would walk around, looking for a way out but there would be none. There was a voice, a cruel laugh that chilled her to her bones. When she woke however, she locked those thoughts away, repressing them until she could barely remember what it was she dreamed of.

One day she got a letter with an Orlesian stamp and when she opened it, it changed everything. Morrigan had returned, and with her, all the bad memories. She packed up her bags and after leaving Nathaniel a quick note, left. She spent the next eight weeks searching for Morrigan, driven by a unknown force.

Finally she found her. Hidden in the middle of nowhere, with an Eluvian in her grasps. The Eluvian sits there, beckoning to her in the way in beckoned to her when she was still young and naive, and all she worried about was a small scar that she got while hunting. She clutches her head, the voices calling to her. Then Morrigan is there, angry and vindictive as she demands to know why she followed.

"You were a friend, once." The words sound hollow and fake, and she knows Morrigan can see through them. Yet she presses on, blocking out the voices in her head. "What are you planning on doing with the Eluvian? How...how is the child?"

"Ah, the child," The witch pauses, a smirk on her face. "That would be the real reason you are here, wouldn't it?"

"I need to know that you haven't endangered an innocent child, that he or she is safe." She hears the desperation in her voice, tells herself that it is because she cares for the child's safety, and nothing more.

"Is that so? Allow me to propose a theory, if you would." Morrigan walks forward until she is only mere inches away from the Warden. "After a near death experience you have remembered how you felt all those years ago. Alone, feeling as if you were drifting in the ocean. You wanted a miracle, a happily ever after with the love of your life. And then you found him and everything seemed perfect. However recently you have began to wonder if your time had come, yet you knew it was not possible, that you had not been a Warden long enough for that to occur. Yet it brought on other thoughts, such as why haven't you bore a child? You tell me Warden, do you know the extent of your taint?"

"I know all that I need to know." She replies shortly, her companions tense at her side. "All I need is for you to answer my question Morrigan, nothing more."

"Yet I will not answer your question until you answer mine." The witch crosses her arms, staring down at the shorter elf. "Tell me your answer Warden, and I shall tell you mine."

"You have asked more than one question, therefore I don't know which to answer."

"Ah yes, that is true. Allow me to simplify, do you know the extent of what the taint has done to you?"

"Of course. The taint has not been stopped, only slowed down. One day the dreams will return, and one day I will go the Deep Roads, like all the Wardens before me." She feels smug, confident that for once she has bested the witch. Only to hear her laugh.

"Is that really all you know, my dear, dear Warden?" Morrigan laughs again, tossing her head back. "I shall answer your question, for that was the rule of our game. Yet before I go, let me...bestow upon you some my knowledge yes?"

"Tell me what happened to the child Morrigan." The Warden whispers, stepping closer towards the witch.

"He is safe, do not worry. And is far, far away from this land." Morrigan whispers back. "I know that you resent me for lying to you Warden, so allow me to give you another, more proper, reason."

"And what could I possible resent you for more than lying to me and then blackmailing me into convincing Alistair to participate in some dark ritual?" She whispers back, her her breath hot on both of their faces.

"For that fact that I could have his child, and you could not."

Before she can react, Morrigan pushes the Warden down the stairs, deflecting the others' attacks as she steps backwards into the Eluvian. The elf hits the ground with a thud, her hair falling out of it's ponytail to lay scattered on the ground. She feels light headed, can barely hear the conversation of the others. She pushes herself up off the ground, turning down any offer of assistance. They make their way out of the Wilds, and they each go their separate ways.

She wanders after that, heading in the general direction of Amaranthine. She tries to block out what Morrigan says, tells herself that they are only the words of a bitter, twisted woman. During the day she can almost believe the words but when night comes, when it's dark and it's just her and her dog, doubt begins to creep in. When she finally does arrive in Amaranthine, she stops at the local chanty to visit an old friend.

"Wynne." She smiles at the older mage. "How have you been?"

"I am well, and yourself? You seem...preoccupied my dear." Wynne pats the bench next to her, and Warden gratefully settles down.

"I...I need to ask you something, something, personal." She chews on her bottom lip, well aware of her bedraggled appearance. "I need to know if I can have children."

"Oh..." Wynne sighs, covering the other's hand with her own. "I don't suppose they talked about this during the ritual."

"No, they didn't mention it at all." She closes her eyes and breathes in. "It's just recently I've been...thinking about it, I mean it's not like we don't...you know and nothing has ever happened and I just want to know what's going on."

Her voice gets a little high pitched at the end, and she covers her mouth when she's done, shaking silently. She doesn't protest when Wynne pulls her close, the older woman rocking her gently.

"Sometimes the price we pay, is bigger than we initially imagined." Wynne says gently, and with that sentence, tells her everything she had begun to fear.

* * *

Time slows down after that, she hides out in Amaranthine for a while, pretending to have business to attend to. The people she does encounter believe her, and she hides away from the few who wouldn't. She spends her time curled up in bed, her head between her arms. She cries in the beginning, sobbing in a way she hadn't since that night. Eventually they die down though, and in their place are tiny little tears that drip down her cheeks. She rarely eats, spending most of her time asleep, or wrapped up in the blankets by the fire.

_"Mahariel, my love, where are you hiding?" Tamlen's voice rang in her head like it was only yesterday that they were exploring together. "Why do you hide from me? Do you no longer love me?"_

"Get out of my head..." She whispers, tangling her fingers in her hair. "You are dead, and with you went any hope of a normal life!"

She's screaming by the end, the tears rushing down her face once more. She's shaking now as she stands up, the sheet wrapped around her waist. She wants to scream again, wants to let out how angry she is, how sad she is.

"I loved you!" She screams at the image of Tamlen. "I loved you! Why didn't you listen to me? You bastard, you took away everything from me! All you had to do was stay away from the damned mirror! You couldn't just break my heart once could you? No, you had to break it all over again!"

_"Stop hiding Mahariel...you are too beautiful to let the darkness eat you up" The other elf begins walking towards her, a smile on his face. "I am happy for you my love, all I wanted was for you to find happiness."_

"The darkness?" She stumbles, falling onto the ground. "There is no saving me from this darkness Tamlen! You...you took everything...you went and touched that mirror and with it you damned both of us. Damned me to live a life without ever knowing what it would be like to have a to have a family to call my own, to settled down and grow old with the man I loved."

_"You must let it go...there can be no undoing the past, only looking forward to the future..." __Tamlen lets out a quiet, almost bitter laugh. "You must make the most of the rest of your life Mahariel, you will touch so many people, help them on their journeys. The ache will never truly go away, but allow it to be lessened, allow others to share the burden."_

She raises her head to respond when the door to her room bursts open. A beam of bright light, brighter than she had seen in many weeks. A figure, outlined in the light, comes rushing towards her, kneels down in frontof her, grabs her hands in his and pulls her close. She can smell him, the smell of firewood and trees and Alistair. She begins to cry, great heaving sobs that shake her entire body. She pulls him closer, pressing her nose into his neck as she tried to get even impossibly closer.

"I talked to Wynne-" The warrior starts, pulling back to look in her eyes. He goes to continue his sentence, goes to start the inevitable yet awkward conversation.

She decides she can't do it right now. She lunges forward, slipping her tongue into Alistair's mouth and pushing him onto the ground. He briefly protests, his hands trying to gently push her away. She pushes back though, and grinds down on his lap until with a loud groan in her mouth, he gives up. He pulls at her bra, eventually getting it off and throwing it across the room. He gently caresses her, pulling back to nip at her neck, suck on her ears.

Hours later, when the sun has gone back down and they're both curled up on the rug in front of the fire, the pillows and blankets from the bed around them, Alistair lets out a sigh. "You could have just talked to me love."

"And told you what?" She replies back, running her hand down his chest. "That the great Hero of Ferelden was so rattled by the thought of never having children that she hid away from the world?"

"You could have shared the burden with me." Alistair whispers back, stroking her hair, his hand getting tangled in it's knots. "I'm...it breaks my heart too."

She shakes her head, closing her eyes as she tries to think of the words to explain, the words that allow her to properly share her grief.

"I...we, have given up so much for this world." She chokes out, pressing her face into his neck. "We went beyond what anyone has ever expected, beyond what is considered fair. Why can't we have this one thing? Why can Morrigan have it and we can't?"

"I studied in the Chantry my entire life until Duncan came and saved me really. I've told you, I'd be a awful Templar." A weak laugh escapes his throat, and he continues. "I've never been real serious about it all, not like Lelianna anyway, but I always believed. But now, now I just don't know anymore."

She sniffles, grabbing his left hand and holding it tightly. She feels him rock her gently, untangling his other hand from her hair. They sit there for a while, both consumed in their separate thoughts.

"What's next for us?" She finally speaks up, feeling a strange calm set over her. "Where do we go from here?"

"Well, there's a recruit that was picked up from the Deep Roads, interesting story that. Anyways, getting off topic. The recruit, his name's Carver. Not a bad fellow, little resentful of his sister but aren't we all? Point being, he's from Kirkwall, and we need to stop by there to retrieve some of the Warden's belongings that some dwarf managed to get his hands on. Also, there's going to be another expedition, this time to explore some Thaig that the boy found."

"Thaig? I'm guessing that's not exactly Gray Warden business." She teases, letting out a small smile. "When was the boy picked up?"

"Maybe not under normal circumstances, but what Carver says is a little disturbing. An idol made of pure lyrium, and in a place that's been crawling with Darkspawn. Why wouldn't they have run off with it like they do with some many of the other relics?" Alistair sighs, leaning back against the small table. "And Stroud picked him up a few years back, when he was on the Free Marshes Expedition. They just returned a few weeks ago. See, without you to run everything, it all goes to hell."

Laughing a little, she squeezes his hand tightly. "Well, it's not your fault, my shoes are just too big to fill."

"Oh, Ms. Ego now I see!" Alistair teases back, and for a moment, both of them are happy. Then, just as quickly, his face becomes guarded again. "There's another thing. Stroud said that that they were in deep, deeper than the tunnel that led back to the surface, no one should have been able to find him."

"But they did...did you find out how? Did Carver say anything?"

"He didn't need to, Stroud told Nathaniel and I everything." The shadows make Alistair's face seem longer, more gaunt. "A mage was leading them, one dressed in Tevinter robes. Stroud was unaware of who he was at first, but then he introduced himself."

"Anders...that son of bitch." Mahariel's eyes grow hard, and in that moment she looked as beautiful and scary as she did during the Blight. "I need to talk to Carver. I need to know about Anders."

"If I'd known that all it took was someone to chase down, I would've given you a list of the Crows following Zevran." Despite his tone, the warrior's face still looks worried. "Are you sure that you can do this? We could stay here for a little longer."

"No. I've stayed here too long. I'm not saying that I'm okay, I'm far from being okay. But staying here won't help, not anymore. I need to go out there Alistair, I need to see him." She pauses, fidgeting nervously before continuing. "There was a Templar who infiltrated our ranks. I didn't realize until...until it was too late. There was a body, a family to be notified. When the trail led to nothing Nathaniel went to Denerim to speak to the Chantry. All they said was that he was one of them, but that they couldn't tell me what he was doing in Amaranthine. I don't know what he said but whatever it was it was what tipped him off the edge. I need to know why."

"Okay then, let's get ready to go." Alistair places one last kiss on her head before pulling them up. "We'd better pack what little you have. Hey, you remember the time Wynne found my sock? All the way down in the Deep Roads and then she decides to mention it. Good times."

She combs her hair out, pulling back into it's braid. Alistair helps her into her armor, the black leather contrasting with the blue tunic of the Wardens. Her two daggers, something that she had thrown in the corner weeks previous, sit on her hips. Her quiver and bow are on her back, and it almost feels as if no time has passed. They send a message to Nathaniel on ahead, telling him to have Carver exempt from training on the day they'll arrive. She spends the brief trip to Amaranthine thinking about how to handle the situation, her mind grateful for the new distraction. When they arrive she's once again struck by a sense of familiarity, Zevran yelling at them cheerily from the training grounds while his recruits are running laps.

"By Andraste's grace it's good to see you again." A familiar voice reaches her ears. Swinging around she spots Nathaniel standing in the entrance to the Keep, a small grin on his face. "I thought Alistair was never going to find you. You scared us for a minute Boss."

"Boss? You seem to be doing a pretty good job here yourself Nate. Might not need me around anymore." She offers up what she hopes passes as a smirk, walking towards the other Warden. "Then again, I suppose necessity is the greatest motivator right?"

"Funny Boss, real funny." Nathaniel laughed, shaking her hand. "But in all seriousness, it's good to have you back, for however long you chose to stay."

"Well I suppose that would all depend on what our newest recruit has to say, wouldn't it?" The three of them begin the walk towards the main section. "Have you asked him any questions yet?"

"Nope, was waiting for you Boss. Figured this is something that we need to do together." Nathaniel turned to look at her, his brown eyes serious as he stared down at her. "We were both there, up close and personal, when he...exploded. We deserve to see it out till the end."

She nods, giving his shoulder a squeeze before continuing inside. They walk in silence up the stairs, and everything seems to familiar, as if Ser Pounce-alot was about to jump out of the supply closet, that it hurt. Nathaniel points ahead to a door, and he pushes it open, revealing a dark haired young man siting inside.

"Commander!" The boy, Carver she's guessing, sees Nathaniel and jumps to his feet, to which Nathaniel offers up a smile before gesturing for them all to sit down.

"I'm not Commander anymore. Carver, meet the Hero of Ferelden, the Warden-Commander of Amaranthine. And I'm sure you remember Alistair, don't you?"

"Yes sir, it is good to see you again Alistair, how was your trip to Amaranthine?" Carver's face turns a slight red, but it soon fades away. "It is an honor to meet you, Warden. I have heard many great things from the recruits here."

"Thank you. I need to ask you some questions about your time before the Wardens, is that all right?" She slips back into the role easily, the hard, analytical parts of her brain begin working as if nothing's ever happened. Carver nods, and she notices how his body tenses up, his face becomes tight. "The mage that was traveling with you, his name was Anders correct? Tell me about him."

"There's whole bloody lot, not sure you want the whole story." Carver looks up at her, and upon realizing she's serious, shrugs his shoulders. "Fine, but feel free to stop me if you get bored. We needed maps in order to get into the Deep Roads, and Varric, that's my sister's friend, he said that there was a Warden somewhere in the city and that if anyone would have maps, then it would be him."

"This Varric knew Stroud was in the city? How?"

"He didn't. Varric's family's was exiled, surfacers as we call them. They're a big influence in Kirkwall, the House of Tethras, ever heard of them? Point being, he was the younger of the two brothers, and he spent most of his time telling stories and paying people for information at the Lowtown bar, The Hanged Man. His information was only that a Warden had appeared among some of the refugees, and that some lady, I forget her name, was running a Ferelden care center, and she knew where he was. So my sister, Varric, Merrill and myself went to check it out."

"Wait, Merrill? Is she Dalish by any chance?" Mahariel leans forward. "Was her keeper named Marethari?"

"Yes how did you know that? Wait, she's mentioned you before, you're the one who touched the mirror!" Carver looks at the Warden with interest. "She's trying to rebuild it you know, it's why she left."

She struggles to keep her face an expression of disinterest, to remain professional despite the fear crawling up her chest, curling around her neck. "We can get back to Merrill later, continue, if you would."

"Right, right. Okay so long story short, when we arrived, the lady didn't want to tell us anything, like she just wanted us gone. But then some twat in the crowd mentioned a healer, and so my sister was all like 'I'm a mage too, relax' and eventually she told us he was in Darktown. Now, Darktown is like one of the worst places in Kirkwall, if you're not careful. So when we get down there, it takes a while before we figure out where the hell it is that we're suppose to go. Finally we decide to check out the basement for, well that's off topic but pretty much when we left the house we realized that the mage's place was right next door. So we walk in and he's dressed up in what looks like these Tevinter robes and he's healing this kid and it goes all great, the kid wakes up and the parents are happy. But then he's stumbling back and like I swear there was like black smoke coming out of his robes and his eyes seemed blue. But then he seemed fine, and my sister and him started talking and he said that the only was he'd give us the maps were if she helped him free his friend." At this point Carver pauses again, and rolls his eyes. "As if that didn't set us off right? So night comes and before going to help him we help Isabella and find Fenris...weird story but anyways, we go to the Chantry to help him and when we get inside his friend's tranquil. Both my sisters and my dad are mages, or were in some cases, and I know what tranquil is and I get that it's a huge deal. But Anders, like he flips out. His voice gets all deep and that smoke comes back except this time we're right up close and I see it."

"See what? Tell me exactly what you saw." She feels jumpy, a nervous feeling shooting through her. "Think carefully, and don't leave out any detail, no matter how small."

"What I saw...it was scary. Don't get me wrong, I'm not some scaredy cat or anything but this...okay, here's what happened. The tranquil, I think his name was Karl, tells us how Templar's are coming, and moments later, there's a dozen of them. So course we're all busy fighting cause if any of them get away, well my sister's a mage so you can figure it out. Plus you know, they were trying to kill us and all. Look my sister...she's...powerful, as much as I hate to add more on to her perfect image, it's true. So I've seen some pretty crazy shit come from her, but it was never like this. We're there fighting, and all of sudden there's this huge explosion of light, and it's like the entire Chantry feels like it's been transported to the middle of winter. Then all of sudden I'm knocked to the ground and literally, I can't see anything. Then it clears, just like that and suddenly my sister is, who was knocked to the ground by the way, wasn't just me, gets up and starts talking to him, trying to calm him down and all. Then he turns around and his eyes are these bright blue orbs and I swear he's about thrown my sister down the stairs. But then, then it suddenly stops, and before we can ask anything Karl suddenly starts speaking, and he's normal again." Carver's eyes dart back and forth nervously "He starts speaking some nonsense about Anders bringing the Fade back and I dunno, even my sister seemed doubtful. Then it was gone, and Anders killed him before we left."

"Interesting, is that all? There were no more interactions between you all?" She questions, her brain churning as it processed the new information. "Carver, anything you tell us will be immensely helpful."

"Yeah, I know. Look it's just...he drove me crazy. Always going on about mages' rights and all that. I know it sounds horrible but, he was so intense, always brooding and he would be in my face too, whenever we were off earning money." Carver takes a deep breath, and fidgets a bit. "There's one last thing. After we helped him out, my sister was furious about what had happened. She wasn't angry about Karl or anything, no my sister's too nice for that, she was furious about how he almost killed us with his whole light blast thingy. Anyway, after we said goodbye to Varric and Merrill, she told me she was going to go talk to Anders and get the maps. I knew she was lying, partially at least, not to mention Darktown's dangerous, I wasn't letting her go alone, could you imagine what Mother would do if she died? Point is, we went down there. She told him that she wanted the maps, as part of the deal. He agreed, and told her that he wanted to help us out, and she responded that if he wanted to do that then he needed to tell her what had happened in the Chantry."

"Did he tell you and your sister what the reason was?"

"No. Or well, not me. He told my sister that he didn't mind telling her, but that he couldn't trust a non-mage, that I wouldn't understand."

"So you left? Did your sister tell you what happened?"

"She didn't have to. We don't get along, that's for certain. I disagree with her on everything, and I'll admit, I'm jealous of her and little resentful that becoming a Warden wasn't my choice, it was her's but, this time she came through. She told Anders to let her walk me out so we could make sure there were no bandits in the basement, you know, the place from earlier? Anyways, when we went out she told me to stay right in front of the entrance, and see if I could listen in. She wanted to make sure she wasn't the only one who heard whatever it was he had to say, just in case something...happened, in our travels." Carver pauses to swallow, and then after looking around, he continues. "He starts telling her how, when he was a Warden, he met this friend of his, Justice and how he was stuck outside the Fade. Then he goes on about him and Justice talked about the freedom of mages, and how Anders didn't do enough. He told her that...that he became Justice's host, that he thought it would be different with a willing body. But it wasn't. He said that Justice had become warped because of his anger, that he had become a thing of Vengeance, and that he came out whenever he got angry at the Templar injustices."

"That's it? Nothing else happened after that night?" She leans back, already anticipating his answer.

"Yeah, or at least, all there was when I was there. It's been, what, a few years now? Anything could have happened in that time period." Carver sighs, crossing his arms. "He never hurt my sister, or me. I don't know for sure but, it seemed like he listened to her. Then again, she was agreeing with him at that point."

"Thank you Carver, you've been most helpful." She shakes his hand with what she hopes looks like a genuine, relieved smile.

"My pleasure Commander, may I return to training or is there something else you wish of me?" Carver stands, his metal armor clinking against one another.

"Yes, of course, send Zevran my apologies for borrowing you for so long." She smiles, aware of how, although he was addressing her, his eyes flickered to Nathaniel.

He nods, opening the door and leaving in what looked like a controlled rush. Alistair smiles as she goes to sit next to him, and Nathaniel settles himself across from the two. He shakes his head, looking down at the hands in his lap.

"I can't believe...Andraste's grace why would he do such a thing?" Nathaniel shakes his head again, before looking up at the other Warden. " Don't worry, I'm not getting sentimental about him. I know he did. I saw what he did. To me, to you, and to the rest of those Wardens."

"I never doubted you Nate." She looks at him warmly, the feeling in her chest bubbly and light. "Okay, let's talk about what we do know. Anders fled to Kirkwall, to save Karl, and to escape us. Yet why would he leave the Ferelden circle alone? And this spirit, Justice I'm assuming, what part does he play in this? It's obvious that Anders can't control him completely, yet he hasn't taken on the appearance of an abomination." She pauses, leaning forward at looking at the other two Wardens. "Your opinions?"

"The spirit, it's not Justice anymore. Or at least, not the Justice we know." Nathaniel responds, his face showing him deep in thought. "From what Carver says, it sounds like he's become more primitive. Unable to control his basic urges of anger and righteousness."

"So he's pretty much a ticking time bomb." Alistair signs, shaking his head. "Maker's breath what have we gotten ourselves into?"

"Carver's older sister, according to Carver he seemed to listen to her." Mahariel shakes her head, thinking furiously. "She's a mage, and seems to be trying to help the mages in Kirkwall, maybe her actions are able to placate him?"

"But for how long? He was well on his way to becoming a recluse a few years ago when Carver left, so we can assume that he's one now. And he's probably joined a Mage underground group." Nathaniel rubs his head before a sudden thought comes to him. "This is only a theory but hear me out. We all know Anders was a little paranoid. Put that together with Justice, he could begin to have delusions."

"Kirkwall's already a bed of political tension, what with the Qunari and the mages." Alistair adds. "You know how much I hate to be the bearer of bad news but, we can't look into this, we're not allowed to get involved in politics."

"He's right. We're not, and as the newly promoted Warden-Commander Nate, I think you better pretend you know nothing about this." She stands up and walks to the window, her arms crossed as she looked out. "I won't get involved in the politics, but we must need to go to Kirkwall for some Warden business."

"Excuse me Boss? Warden-Commander?" Nathaniel stutters, confusion painting his face. "You're back now, I'm happy to step down. I prefer being your second."

"I know. But Nate, you're ready for this. You've been ready. Look how you've gained the others' respect just in this short time. They see you as their leader, as they should." She smiles, and it feels genuine. "This is a great opportunity for you, and I...I can't stay here. I never liked the confinements. I meant to be rooming the country, assisting the Wardens, you, in any way I can."

"Boss...Fine. I can see I won't change your mind." Nathaniel laughs softly, shaking his head. "So, official Warden business that may or may not go near Kirkwall. I'm sure Alistair's told you of the Thaig. The First Warden's interested in it and he wants to send people to check it out. It's too dangerous to go down there without any intel, and considering I'm now Warden-Commander, I want to be the one that eventually goes down there."

"So what do you want us to do then?" Alistair asks, a small smirk on his face when he takes in the surprised look of Mahariel and the smug one of Nathaniel. "Please, you really think I was going to let you go running off without me? We stopped the Blight together, therefore I think we can be considered partners."

"Easy, go to the Free Marshes and see if you can track down anything sold from the Thaig. Especially any maps or books." Nathaniel smiles at the pair. "Do not go anywhere near the Deep Roads till you report to me. Once we have some intel we can begin preliminary investigations into parts the Thaig that have already been excavated by the expedition."

"Understood...Commander." She smiles, mischief dancing in her eyes. She feels light again, the way she felt before any of this happy. Even though she knows it's only temporary, it reminds her of Tamlen's words. "So, when do we leave?"

"In a week's time. You'll need time to make preparations, to chose who else you wish to accompany you. And of course you'll need to visit with your old friend who you'll be leaving at this Keep alone." Nathaniel's face is serious, but his eyes match Mahariel's in mischief. "Of course you'll be taking Carver, you will someone who knows his way around Kirkwall."

* * *

The week passes by slowly, and just as slowly, she feels more and more relaxed. They pick Zevran, Carver and two other recruits to come with them. Alistair spends the week briefing them on the mission, and Carver explains Kirkwall in vast detail. She comes to some of the meetings, mostly the ones that tell her where stuff in Kirkwall are located. The rest of the time she spends training and meditating in her room. She still struggles to come to term with everything, but surprising, being back with the Wardens doesn't remind her of her loss, rather it makes her forget.

They leave early Friday morning, when the sun is still down. They have horses, unlike when they were trying to stop the Blight. It makes her want to laugh at the thought, and the fact that she's happy about such a silly thing seems strange. She doesn't dwell on it however, and they make good time as they make their way toward the border.

"We're going to be around Kirkwall for a while, you can go visit your sister if you want." Alistair offers, looking over at Carver.

"It's fine. I don't want to." He doesn't look over, choosing instead to look forward at the endless trees ahead of them. "We don't have that kind of relationship."

"Are you sure? We wouldn't care." She already knows the answer, but she feels as if she had to make at least a little of an effort. "And I'm sure your sister would be happy to see you."

"I'm sure." She can hear the tension in his voice, the way his body grows tense in the saddle. "It's fine."

They don't speak much after that, and eventually they're forced to take a ship to area outside Kirkwall. They walk after that, and bandits plague their every step until they set up camp on a cliff overlooking the city. With a cave carved out from the upper half of the cliff, they're safe from wind and bandits.

"We'll need to divide into two groups." She says when they're all sitting around the fire. "Alistair, Carver and myself will go into Kirkwall to scout out potential relics, Zevran and you two will scout out the area surrounding Kirkwall, maybe some of the illegal trading goes down out here."

"Sounds good, but what of the Qunari? There are rumors that they're getting restless, and that the opposition to them is greater than ever." Zevran points out. "They say the city is close to open rebellion, it won't remain safe in there for long."

"That's a risk we'll take." The light dances off her face, illuminating her tattoos. "We'll go in tonight, when it's the late night guards. If you don't hear from us, don't follow. Send word to Nathaniel and sit tight, understood?"

Zevran nods, his trademark smirk on his face. "Do try to not make me have to come in after you, you know I will."

She opens her mouth to say something, maybe to reprimand, she didn't know, only to start to laughing. The recruits stare at her, and Zevran starts laughing with her, Alistair watching them both with a fond smile on his face. The light feeling is back, filling her up and she wants to cling to it, wants it desperately to stay. But then it's gone, and she forces her mind back to the task at hand. They walk into the city, the guards so tired that they barely give them a look. It's almost surprising, the lack of security. Yet she supposes it's not the outside is not the homing of the most pressing, lurking, threat.

"We should start in Hightown, that's where most of the goods would have been sold." Carver says, his voice low as they walk through the streets. "We'll need to change out of the Gray Warden armor however, people won't want to talk to us if they know we're Warden's."

"Sounds good. Anywhere we can buy some clothes?" She whispers, the three of them pausing underneath a statue. "We'll also need to take a look at some people in Lowtown, they might be able to point us to some of the more...shady, aspects of these deals."

"Yeah, there's a merchant down in Lowtown who'll get us some stuff." Carver leads them down the stairs. "Come on, we'll need to hurry before the rest of the merchants get up."

They walk into the The Bazaar, and there's a lone man opening up his stall. Carver waves him over and they talk, whispering as the vendor looks at him suspiciously, eying Alistair and Mahariel up and down. They stand there awkwardly, the sun beginning to rise, illuminating the courtyard with it's rays. Eventually the man walks over and hands Carver a bag, and in return Carver hands him around three gold.

When he comes back he's got a small grin on his face. Opening the bag he reveals several articles of clothing, along with cloaks to cover their faces. They duck into a nearby stall, and the boys change while she waits outside, and then she goes in. They look normal, not exactly fit for Hightown, but at least they no longer stand out like a sore thumb. She looks down at herself, dressed in a pale green dress, with a gold cinch at the waist. Alistair and Carver are dressed in simple, dark clothing, their cloaks pulled tightly around their shoulders. She tugs at her cloak, making sure it's wrapped tightly as they begin their walk up the stairs.

"Okay, the Dwarf's do their business in a small corner of Hightown. While it might make sense to ask the merchants firsthand, it'll be easy to know whether or not they're lying to us first." A few merchants are scattered around the courtyard as they walk in, their stalls half opened in the new morning. Carver ignores them for the most part, navigating through the streets with ease. "Okay, so allow me to most of the talking, we don't want to freak the merchant princes out."

They spend the morning trying to convince the various princes to talk. They found out about Bartrand's supposed craziness, and how following that event, most of the princes sold what relics they had to various shady organizations throughout Kirkwall. Carver presses them for more information though, asking for details on what they had bought, what it looked like, what it represented. Most of the princes had simply bought gold, or various jewels, most without any real significance. Eventually though, towards the end of the day, when the sun was beginning to set, a young prince told them something of significance.

"Books? From the expedition? Yeah, I bought one a while back, got rid of it when Bartrand went insane." He was young, with black hair and nervous, wide eyes. "I-I just inherited the position from my brother, he went back home."

"Do you remember what it was about?" Carver asked, looking down at the nervous dwarf. "Who did you sell it to?"

"I-I-I don't really remember much, I didn't get to read a lot before I found out about Bartrand." The dwarf looks around, obviously trying to end the conversation quickly. "It-It was some kind of journal, had some dwarf name that started with a C! I sold it to some mage, I dunno what he did with it!"

"A mage? Tell me about him." Mahariel steps in, her eyes lighting up. She feels her heart pounding, in excitement or fear she can't tell. Her scars are tingling, all of her nerve are on edge as she waits for his answer.

"There's nothing to tell! He was dressed in green, with blond hair!" The dwarf stumbles over his words. "He-he seemed out of place, as if he wasn't used to being around many people."

"Thank you. I'm sorry to have bothered you." She nods, stepping away from the dwarf. "Let's go, we need to get rooms at the inn."

They head to the inn in Hightown, Carver adamant about avoiding The Hanging Man. They get a room with twin beds, and they all get ready for bed. She offers to let them change first, and when they do, she grabs a piece and quickly writes down that's she's going out to look for the book and that she'll be back. She shoves it under the door and dashes down the stairs, pulling her hood over her face.

Slipping out the door a rush of wind hits her, pulling and pushing her cloak. Pulling it tighter, the walk through Hightown is almost relaxing, the stars shining down in little pinpricks. There's a rustle, the sound of cloth moving. It shakes her from her thoughts, forcing her to hurry along the path. As her feet take her closer to Lowtown, the path beneath her changes. Once covered in elegant stonework, it begins to become uneven, stones standing inches taller than their other compatriots. It becomes thinner too, the walls closing in the farther away from Hightown she gets, pressing in on her. The streets are empty, and the entrance to Darktown is even more abandoned. The gate is rotted wood, barely hanging on to the walls that flank it. It opens with a creak, and flecks of rust fall onto her hand. Beyond the gate are dark stairs, empty lantern holders lining the mossy walls. She hears the gate close behind her, the sound echoing down the tunnel. The stairs are uneven, and slippery, her sandaled feet nearly slipping out from under her. The winter chill seems colder down here, and she tucks her fingers into her cloak.

The stairs seem to go on forever, gradually leveling out. Soon she sees dim lights, and she quickens her speed. She comes out in dark alleyway, underneath a set of stairs. In her mind's the map Carver drew back at Amaranthine, the weaving passages and winding stairs. Looking around, she makes her way up a set of stairs, only to go ten feet and go down another. There's deathroot nearby, the smell thick and heady in the air. She hears the crunch of long dead plants under her sandals, and her heart beats faster as she approaches the small building ahead.

Walking up the stairs, it seems deserted, the door closed and bolted. The area seems unimpressive, even for Darktown, and there's a pile of wood that blocks another entrance right nearby. Moving towards the door, she inspects it, finding only a rusty lock standing between her and the inside. She runs her hand down it, feeling the indents, twists and turns that make it up. Thinking for a moment, she yanks down hard, and with a scatter of rust, the lock falls off. Pushing the door open, she steps into the deceptively spacious room. Like she suspected, it's empty, and she tries to ignore the feeling of irritation.

She makes her way to the back, where the walls are lined with various shelves. Made of rotting wood, many of the shelves bow underneath the weight. The area also smells of marsh, mixed in with the dusty smell of old, but well loved, books. She runs her fingers along the spines, her eyes indexing each of titles. On the bottom shelf, covered in paper and ink, is where she finally finds it. Caritin's Journal. It's small, made of a black leather with silver engravings. Flipping through the pages, however, reveals it's age, the yellowed pages and faded ink a stark contrast to it's cover.

"Who are you?" An all too familiar voice hits her like a tidal wave. Shoving the book in her cloak, she struggles to calm her breathing. "Answer me intruder, before I lose my patience."

"Someone you thought was dead." She doesn't know where she gets the words, and when they leave her mouth, she's shocked by how cold, how angry, they sound. She turns around slowly, watches with a sadistic sort of happiness as his face goes from angry to barely hidden fear.

"Warden-Commander...I-what are you doing here?" He stammers out, his hands hanging limply at his side.

"We got a new recruit a few years back, Stroud brought him in when the Free Marsh expedition was done. Funny story he had."

She keeps her tone icy, aware that her only advantage, surprise, was quickly disappearing. Barely visible, she spots the black smoke emanating from the other, the tension in his body that wasn't there moments before. Anders flounders for a moment, before suddenly growing silent.

"You sold me out, all of you did." Anders hisses, his eyes thankfully still his own. "That Templar...you allowed him to enter the Wardens, he called me an abomination!"

"We didn't sell you out, none of us knew he was there." She responds, edging towards the exit. "and from what I've heard Anders, that's exactly what you are."

"What? I am no abomination! And if you didn't sell me out, then why did you do nothing?" His voice level raises up, his eyes turning a solid blue. "You, you did nothing as they imprisoned us like animals! Your offer is nothing more than a death sentence."

"Wardens are not allowed to get involved, and as for being your friend, you never told us anything! You killed dozens of Wardens and you almost killed me and Nathaniel!" She's struggling to control her emotions, reminds herself that she's dealing with a spirit, that all these words are only a way out. "And I saved all of those mages when the easier thing would be to have let the Templars kill them. Tell me, Justice, does that count for nothing?"

Anders opens his mouth, and she's sure that words came out. Yet she didn't hear them for suddenly the entire ground began to shake. Planting her feet, she watched as Anders, as Justice, tumbled to the floor. Fighting her instinct to go help, she turned and ran. Practically falling down the stairs, she feels the all too familiar fire licking at her feet as the mage realizes her exit. Forcing herself to not look back, she does a running turn to send herself catapulting down the stairs, landing in a crumpled pile on the ground. Pushing herself back up, she sees the stairs slicked with ice, and the sight pumps more adrenaline through her veins, pushing her forward into the dark stairwell. Her sandals provide no traction, and she slips multiple times as she runs up the stairs. She can feel the blood on her knees, the blood pumping through her ears. There's the constant stream of magic, the whiff of flame or the chill of ice that just barely misses her. There's one spell that grazes her leg, the ice sealing itself to the back of her thigh. The feeling invigorates her, in a strange sense, and she pushes herself forward towards the gate. Practically flying through it, she barely hears the gate close behind her.

The city's burning, is her first thought, the fires reaching way above some of the Lowtown buildings. Next she hears the screaming, the thud of the axe as the Qunari silence the people of Lowtown. She sees a young child fall as he runs towards her, the shadowy silhouette of the Qunari not far behind. She stops, staring at the scene with a sense of dread building in her stomach, She opens her mouth to scream, a warning despite the face that it's too late, when a sudden blast of ice hits her square in the back. She falls, panic overwhelming her senses for only a movement, the cold, calculating part of her that had been missing for oh so long, taking over.

She looks up at Anders, at Justice, her brain trying to think of a quick way out of the mess. He bends down over he, his left hand reaching for the dagger at his waist. That's when she strikes. Kicking out with her legs, she knocks him down on top of her. Shocked, his grip on the spell wavers, and using all of her strength, she breaks away from the ice. Using what little momentum she had, she rolled herself on top of Anders, grabbing the dagger herself.

"I ought to kill you right here." She pants out, her hair hanging around her face. "But if I have to try and forgive Morrigan, the least I can do is not kill you."

He tries to spit something out, his hands already becoming unbearable hot. She doesn't listen, however, and instead hits him, hard, on the side of the head, knocking him out. She drags him into an abandoned hovel, certain that the Qunari wouldn't bother to look inside. She sneaks her way past many of the Qunari, trying to make her way back to Hightown, when she stumbles onto a battle. A young woman, with fiery red hair and bright green eyes, is standing in the center of the courtyard, and all around her lighting is landing, striking the Qunari who dared come close. She has companions however, and with a start the Warden realizes that one of them is Merrill. She spots Alistair too, and Carver, all of them fighting together against the endless wave of Qunari. She stays on the sidelines, well aware that she would be more of a distraction than anything else at the moment, and waits until the mage, Hawke, and her companions leave.

"By the Maker where the hell have you been?" Alistair rushes at her, gathering her in his arms. "And look at you! Can't go anywhere without getting in trouble."

"I got the book." She responds, kissing him despite Carver being there. "I got the book and I made it out alive. I feel great."

* * *

She spends the next three years in the Free Marshes, along with Alistair, Zevran and Carver. Life passes by in a nice fashion, and slowly, all those wounds that were festering, begin to heal. They hand the book over to the First Warden, and they hear nothing more of it until Nathaniel comes to visit, telling them his story of dark creatures lurking about. Even then, she thinks little of it, continuing to recruit and explore the various paths into the Deep Roads. This, she thinks, is how it should have been after the Blight.

The harbinger of change however, was something rather unexpected. Carver announced one day that he had to go back to Kirkwall, his only words being, "My sister needs me, and I need to be at her side.". Departing immediately after, Alistair is unable to get a word out and simply shrugs, kissing her and making a joke about them being the only ones at camp at the moment. Two weeks later, Alistair, Zevran, and herself are seated around the fire, laughing as Zevran retells the story of when they met Shale. Carver appears out of the dark, supporting a muddy, bloody and worn looking woman. Several others make their way out of the darkness as well, and Mahariel hears a voice that she hadn't heard in years, chatting nervously as she attempted to heal the dark skinned woman leaning on her.

She stands up, her head tilted as these newcomers make their way towards them. She feels a sense of duty falling on her, a new adventure calling. She steps forward, and as she does she feels all the anger, all the sadness that had still been clinging to her, that had only been slowly falling away, disappear. The world had changed irrevocable, and they were being thrown back into the fray with little worry to their personal lives.

"Champion." She says simply, nodding to the woman leaning on Carver. "You and I have a lot to discuss."

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A/N: Okay so I have another idea about Dragaon Age 2. Once again I was playing and something Anders said made me think, so I think I'm going to write that. It'll be about a mage Hawke who's a nice person and is for the mages, yet horrible things happen. Part of it will be from Anders' POV, the only question for you readers would be, would you all be interested in hearing more about this Warden? Perhaps from Anders' and later Hawke's POV?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own! Please read and review! :)

* * *

He feels an overwhelming sense of relief when that final coin is hits Hawke's palm. Despite all that had happened with that horrible Patrice woman she lets out a laugh, the sound echoing off the abandoned alleys of Lowtown. Her face is smudged with dirt and dried blood and her hair, dark red, is tangled and knotted and half way falling out of her braid. She's smiling, shaking him out of his thoughts, and her eyes, bright green like the most dangerous snake, shinned bright under the moonlight.

She's the most beautiful thing Anders has ever seen.

When she asks him to go to the Deep Roads with her, he says yes in a heartbeat. He hates the Deep Roads, hates the way the walls close in on him, pushing and pushing until all that's left is a flattened Anders pancake. But then he remembers the way she laughs at the jokes that Varric tells, or the way her hair tumbles down her back when she lets it down. Justice approves of her as well, loves the way she can make the ground shake with a mere raise of her arms, or the way a ball of lightening flies from her hand and hits her target with perfect precision. And then there's the way she believes in mage's rights, the way that she helped Feynriel escape, and how later she lied to the Templars to allow the group of Apostates to escape.

"Hawke! Glad to see you made it." Ander's is sitting with Varric, the dwarf polishing Bianca carefully.

"Course I made it Varric, where else was I going to go?" There are blue strings twisted into her braid, a gift from Carver, judging by the way the two of them are getting along.

"I don't know Hawke, maybe you decide to run off into the ocean blue..." The dwarf grins at the two siblings. "Come along Hawkes, we've got people to talk to and my brother to annoy."

They spend the morning talking to various people, and Anders spends most of time spacing out. By the end of the day Bartrand's given what he considers a positive speech, but what the apostate thinks is simply bad taste.

The second they step into the Roads Anders feels the compressing fear, hears the chattering of the Darkspawn in his head. He feels Justice pounding at his head, clambering to get out, screaming at him to avenge all the souls that were lost, that had died down here. Then she catches his eye, and she smiles, the edges of her eyes lifting up, and in that moment, it's all gone. Justice is relaxed, a calm purring instead of angry screams.

They mow a path through the Deep Roads, and soon enough they find the vault, the idol that created by something unnatural. Bartrand walks in, and suddenly there's the thrum of Justice beneath his skin, the thrum that means danger. Varric tosses the idol to Bartrand, and suddenly the four of them are running towards the door, each of them screaming. Hawke's voice rises above the rest, the desperate plea hitting him like a wave.

Anger swells up in him, and the thrumming turns in full blown shrieking. The world becomes filtered and slow, the way it always does when Justice takes control. He sees columns and rocks flying through the air, toward the door. Then he sees them. Pressed up against the door, unable to get out of the way. He sees Carver grab his sister, pulling her up against the door, covering her with his body in some desperate, and futile attempt. They fall, like dominoes and Anders feels panic creeping up on him, dampening Justice, pushing him away and making the shrieking go away. There's movement from the pile, and suddenly a red head pushes herself up and then there's a rock flying towards his face.

When he wakes up he doesn't remember a thing. What he does remember is Hawke's face hovering above him, a trail of dried blood on her left cheek. She smiles, helping him to his feet. When he asks her what happened to her head she only smiles again, shaking her head and saying something about a cave in. Carver and Varric are there too, both of them are sitting where the idol once was, with blood on the faces.

"We need to find another way out." Hawke leads them towards the back door, a slight limp hampering her steps.

They make their way through the twisting tunnels and she looks so confident, so sure that they're going to make it out alive, that doubt never crosses his mind. Her hair is frizzy and the blue strings that had been so meticulously braided into her hair are the only things that remain untouched by their adventure. When they meet the Hunger Demon Anders feels the anger rush through him again, Justice demanding that they remove the abomination, and all those who would deal with him, immediately. But then she says no. Like an avenging angel she refuses, and when the wraiths attack them she flings her arms up, lightening flaring up and hitting the wraiths, knocking them against the now shaking ground.

His entire body hurts. As they climb the stairs Anders can feel a twinge of pain in his chest. He knows that he should heal it, but there's really no time, Hawke's already pushed ahead into the chamber. He runs to catch up, his heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline and Justice pushing faster, faster and when he and Carver tumble into the room, he freezes. Standing there is the Ancient Rock Wraith, bellowing and causing the whole room to shake. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Hawke and Varric, half hidden behind a column. She's tense, her eyes darting around looking for something to use to their advantage. Then she spots them, her eyes widening in fear.

"Anders! Carver! Get behind that column now!" Her voice is raspy from all the dirt she's inhaled.

For a split second Anders is torn. The rational part of him demands that he get behind that column, that he and Carver wait until Hawke tells them what to do next. Yet there's another part, Justice, who demands that he stand and fight damn it, that he wipe this miserable creature of the face of the-

There's a flare of pain throughout his chest as something heavy hits him, knocking him to the ground. There's a spike of anger but it's quickly dampened out by a haze of pain. He shakes his head, struggling to get the world back on track. His hands glow blue, and suddenly the world seems a little clearer. He sees Carver, crouched behind the column, and he crawls towards him.'

"Glad to see you're up and running again." Carver gives him a quick look over before focusing again on the fight. "Sister! What's the plan?"

Hawke shouts something back, flinging herself back against the column as the red light begins again. She and Varric are talking, their heads leaning close together. Then he hugs the very edge of the column, Bianca held close to his chest. She signals something to Carver now, her hands moving at a rapid speed. When they're done Carver turns to face him, his face set and determined.

"Here's the plan Mage. When the red light stops I'm going to charge in and attack it. However, the red light will eventually start up again, and even though there's a column nearby I might not make it in time. Therefore it's your job to make sure I get there, get it?" Carver looks at him, and the second Anders nods his head the warrior moves the very edge.

The second the red light stops everyone springs into action. Varric darts over to a slight incline, arrows flying across the chamber while Hawke herself steps out from behind the column, a ball of lightening already forming in her palm. Immediately after, Carver gives him a harsh nudge before launching himself out towards the Wraith. The fight is long, and with each passing second Justice becomes more and more dominant, the filter paper beginning to cover his vision. Finally, when everything starts getting slow, and the smoke starts to form, Hawke lunges from behind the column, her staff swinging around in front of her. A large burst of lightening hits the Wraith, before a huge rock, courtesy of the ground around them, hits it dead on. The Wraith begins to crumple in on itself, and Hawke flings her palm up, covering herself in a dome of rock and earth as one last flare covers the room. The earth around her buckles a little under the pressure and panic bubbles up in his chest, pushing Justice to front of his mind. He pushes himself against the column, his hands clutching his staff to his chest.

Then it stops. The room is deathly quiet, and the three of them rush to the center of the room. Suddenly there's a cracking noise and the dome falls away to reveal a very dirty, but so very alive Hawke. Varric rushes forward, helping her to her feet. There's a flash of annoyance that's quickly tampered by the feel of Hawke's hand on his shoulder. He turns to face her, and her face is smudged with even more dirt and blood and parts of her hair is hanging around her face and yet she looks so determined, so amazing, that suddenly Justice seems so far away. They make their way towards the door, and when they find the cache of gold Hawke and Varric begin talking a mile a minute, and they all fill their bags with what they can, and mark what they can't so they can come back later.

"Come on Hawke, as long as we keep walking this way we ought to make it to the surface in no time." Varric sends her a reassuring smile, and that flare of annoyance comes back but this time it's stays, settling above his chest and causes Justice's thrumming to become an irritated hum.

Anders assumes that the worst is behind them. He was so wrong.

It's the third day of walking, and they're all walking at a much slower pace. Varric leads the way, and it's been a while since anyone's said anything. Hawke speeds up slightly to whisper something to Varric, causing the dwarf to laugh. The pang of annoyance is back, higher than ever. It consumes him, Justice pushing incessantly at the back of his mind, demanding to be allowed forward. The anger, the urge, is the strongest it's been since the first time he and Justice merged minds.

"Carver!" Hawke's panicked voice shakes him from his thoughts. She dashes by him, grabbing Carver's hand. "Anders do something, please!"

Anders drops the ground next to her, his hands glowing blue. Nothing works, and anger fills his veins. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and it brings him back to the world of the living.

"I can't do anything, it's not working." He sighs, curling his hands into fists. "I think...I think it's taint."

"No...no, no, no." She whispers, taking Carver's hands in hers. "There must be something we can do!"

"He won't make to the top, hell, we might not make it to the top." Varric kneels down on the other side of Hawke. "There's nothing we can do."

"That's not true." Anders interjects, forgetting that he was suppose to keep this a secret, that the one thing that was critical was that they never found out, that they never knew what he'd done. Once he remembers he tries to think of an excuse, of a reason, and a way to back up. But then he looks up. She's looking at him, with tears in her eyes and so, so much hope. "There's a group of Warden's down here. I don't know what they're doing but...they're the ones I stole the maps from."

"You can take us to them? And they'll accept Carver?" She looks up at him, her hands tightly holding her brothers'

"I believe so, yes."

While Carver and Hawke are trying, quite badly, to say goodbye, Stroud pulls him aside. Anders, and Justice in particular, get tense, and the shrieking is starting to grow. However the Orlesian doesn't do anything, doesn't even get in his personnel space. He just stands there, the other Wardens preparing for the ritual.

"If it wasn't for the boy..." The thick ascent coats his words, making them hard to understand. "We are even Anders. Don't ever come near us, or the Wardens, ever again."

A young elf Warden interrupts them, beckoning Stroud away with a whisper in his ear. The others follow, two of them supporting Carver as they walked away. Anders just stands there, watching as they all fade into the black.

"Anders?" He jumps when he feels a touch on his arm. Hawke's standing there, the tear streaks on her face the only clean part on her face. She steps closer, and suddenly he has his arms full of warm body, red hair under his chin. "Thank you, for saving Carver."

"You're welcome." He whispers, wrapping his arms around her waist. She pulls away a moment later, a small smile on her face.

Three years pass by in a blur, Anders becoming more active in the Mage Underground and less active with his clinic. Hawke visits occasionally, usually accompanied by either Varric or Aveline. But sometimes she's alone, coming down "just to chat." as she says. On the day the Vicount calls for her, however, is when things begin to change once more.

He's in the clinic one morning, treating a young boy who claimed he fell down the stairs leading to Lowtown. He doesn't really believe him, but had long ago decided that it wasn't his job to force the truth from anyone's lips. The door then creaks open, and the young man leaps out a rather unmanly yelp when he sees the visitors.

"Messah Hawke!" The boy flounders for a moment, and the name draws Anders' attention. "I...it's a...what..."

"It's good to see you again Hawke." Anders cuts the poor boy off, taking in the other mage's appearance.

The three years had been kind to the young woman. Her new found wealth had allowed her to take better care of herself. Her hair, while always well taken care of, was now able to be properly combed and conditioned, while her face was rarely, if ever, speckled with the once constant dirt. Today there were strands of golden thread twisted in her braid, and she was dressed in a nice set of leather armor, accompanied by the ever constant staff on her back. She smiles at him, stepping forward into the clinic.

"Anders! We need to talk to you." It was then he noticed her companions. Varric, an ever constant presence at her side, and Fenris, the moody elf that shared none of Anders' opinions and served only to cause Justice severe irritation.

"Of course, anything for you Hawke." He flashes her a grin as he pats the various stools that scatter the clinic. "Just sit down and start, I'm listening."

"The Vicount called for me this morning." The three of them settle down on three stools. "The Arishok has to speak to me, personally."

"The Arishok? Hawke...that's serious. There's been whispers of, only rumors mind you, of uneasiness among The Docks."

"I know. I want you with me, when I go to figure out what it is he wants." Hawke smiles up at him, her eyes just a tiny bit more jaded than they were three years ago, the only evidence of what went happened down there.

"Of course I'll come, I'll always come when you call Hawke." He smiles at her before making his way towards the back of the clinic. "Just allow me to grab a few things."

"It's no rush Anders, I'll wait for you in here." She sends him a smile before nodding at Varric and Fenris. Varric waves cheerily as he and Fenris leave. "How...how is the Underground going?"

"Things keep getting worse, I had Templars practically on my doorstep the other night!" It's like something is set off in him, revealing a side that had previously been hidden away.

"Have...have Templars been asking around? Do they suspect anything?" She steps forward, her eyes scrunched up nervously, her hand on his shoulder.

"No...not yet anyway." He shakes his head, feeling the anger boiling up in him, climbing it's way to the top. "But what if she goes after you? You're not exactly keeping it a secret."

"Anders, I'll be fine. You don't need to worr-" He cuts her off, his eyes already blue and the smoke already billowing around him.

"I'd drown us in blood to keep you safe!" He whispers, looking at her desperately, trying to make her understand.

"You're getting in too deep, and I...I can't follow." She whispers, stepping closer to him. She rests her hands on his shoulders, her bright emerald eyes just inches away from his. He can smell her perfume, a faint floral smell that's tinged with something he can't quite place.

"I would have only hurt you." The words come out him mouth unexpectedly, and there's shock in her eyes. "It's better this way."

He wished he believed those words.

The next three weeks pass in a hazed blur. Hawke makes her way though all of the Arishok's demands, and somehow comes out alive. He sees how the past three years have changed her more clearly now that they are in battle, and his earlier belief that the years had only been kind to her was no longer accurate. While physically she looked better than ever, it was in her fighting that the wear began to show. While once she had hesitated before flinging a lightening bolt, or even a boulder, she now flung her wrist forward preemptively, cutting off the attacks of her opponent. She also now controlled merely the force around them, forcing her enemies into the air before viciously slamming them on the ground.

Then came Patrice. Like a bad virus you can't quite shake, she reappeared, destroying what little peace there was. The murder of Saemus Dumar set forth a night that could never be forgotten. For more reason than one. Hawke had returned home only to find Aveline and Isabela, two friends of Hawke's that Anders had never particularly gotten along with, arguing in her living room. Upon hearing whatever it was that they told her, she turned around and ran off with the two of them immediately, stopping only to pick up Varric from the Hanged Man.

So that left Anders alone. Alone and standing in front of Hawke's door. He had meant to come and talk to her about the Underground, about Ella. Forcing off a bitter feeling in his chest, he turned and made his way back to Darktown. When he reached the clinic the first thing he noticed was the lock. Rusty, and not effective against anyone more experienced than the average thief, the lock was something he had picked up when he first reached Kirkwall. It wasn't that it was broken, per say, because he had been expecting that for a while now. It was rather the way the lock was broken. A sharp, controlled tug had broken the lock without destroying any of it's pieces. In fact, if the burglar had simply put it back in place, Anders might not have even noticed. But he did. Stepping into the clinic his eyes immediately fell onto a cloaked woman kneeling down at the bottom of the bookcase.

"Who are you?" He demanded, feeling Justice angrily pushing at his mind. He steps forward, pressing forward into the room. "Answer me intruder, before I lose my patience."

"Someone you thought was dead." The voice, jagged with ice and anger, hits him like a tidal wave.

He pauses, feeling panic welling up in chest, Justice pounding at his ears. She's beautiful, but then again she always was. A beautiful, elegant archer who could hit a target from miles away. She's not in any armor now, and he doesn't know what she's doing here, what she's doing _**alive**_, her and Nate, the explosion in the Keep, they ought to be dead.

"Warden-Commander...I-what are you doing here?" He barely stammers out, feeling his hands fall limply to his sides.

"We got a new recruit a few years back, Stroud brought him in when the Free Marsh expedition was done. Funny story he had."

Her voice remains icy, and he's so busy focused on the fact that, damn, the Warden Commander is here, is alive and standing in his clinic, in Kirkwall, that he fails to notice at first what's happening. Then he does, noticing the way she's edging towards the door, the fact that she's unarmed. He feels all the anger, all the hurt that he had once thought was buried long ago, come out. Justice is shrieking in his head, demanding, pushing, until finally he's out, but this time, this time Anders doesn't see anything through the filter paper, on the outside, this time he's there, caught up in Justice's anger and vengeance. They chase her through the streets, watching as she flings herself around the corner, proving herself to be a ever capable fighter.

They finally catch up to her at the gate. She's stopped, her eyes wide as she takes in Kirkwall burning. He's so caught up in it all, in finally taking revenge on the one who didn't stand up for him, who allowed that Templar into her ranks, that he forgets one important thing. She's the Warden Commander. He reaches for his dagger, takes his eyes off her but for a moment, and next thing he knows there's a pain in his stomach and he's the one on the floor. There's a dagger pressed into his, their, throat. She leans in close and whispers in his ear, her words hurting but for a moment before Justice takes control. But he doesn't care. He knows that they, Justice, missed his chance. She's too clever to not know what he's about to-

Everything fades to black, and when he awakes Kirkwall's done burning.

He spends the next several years secluded in his clinic, haunted by the memories of Ella and Mahariel. He struggles to control Justice, oftentimes destroying in his clinic in the process. He struggles to forget how alive he felt that night. He dreams of her, of her red hair and her green eyes and how she understands him, understands the struggles of the mages. He remembers how he told it was better this way, that she didn't get involved. He remembers how wrong it felt, how wrong it still feels. He holds himself together for a little while, reminding himself of his plan, of how nothing, not even her, can get in the way of it. Yet it is the plan, in the end, that is his downfall.

He calls for her, and when he comes he lies, tells her about how he wants to separate from Justice. He sees that happiness in her eyes, the way she tells how she's happy he's made this decision, how right she feels it all is. They go down into the sewer, alone. They spend hours searching until finally, he has enough. She laughs, hugging him tightly despite the fact that they both smell of sewage. They go back to the clinic, and as they attempt to clean up, wiping their faces and arms with a cloth as they talk, he tells her of how proud, how happy, he is that she's made a name for herself, that she's become the idol that all mages should look up to.

"That's sweet Anders." She smiles at him, pausing in her futile attempts to clean the silver threads in her braid. "I'm happy that you think of me that way."

He smiles back, and in that moment he knows he's lost.

A few hours later she's waving goodbye, giving him one last smile before walking down the stairs. _The stairs, Mahariel running down, flinging herself around the column...the grunt when he hit her with ice, the sheer panic that clouded her features as he stared down at her, the way Justice, and by extension, him, felt a sick sort of satisfaction. A grunt, his or her's he can' tell. The sharp pain in his stomach as she kicks him, hard. Then-_Nothing. Brought back to the world roughly, Anders feels a dull throb in his stomach, a reminder of what the Commander left him. He turns around and goes back into the clinic, alone. Alone...he doesn't want to be alone anymore. He wants to be with Hawke, with the beautiful woman who's become such a icon for mage's rights, freedoms, who's everything that he could ever want. He tosses in his bed, finally coming to a decision. She will understand when he tells her of what must be done, she will love him and stand with him as he makes sure that there will never be another compromise.

He walks up to Hightown, hiding in the shadows and waiting until the guards walk by. He makes his way up to the Hawke Mansion, so quiet now that Leandra's gone. Knocking quietly, he waits, hearing footsteps coming closer. He imagines her hair, wild and crazy from sleeping, the way her green eyes are glazed with sleep. The door creaks open, and he becomes excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Messah Anders!" Bodahn's voice shakes Anders from his thoughts. A flash of annoyance, one that's harder to get rid of, flares up. "Messah Hawke is not here at the moment, however I do believe she went to visit Messah Fenris if you wish to catch up."

A flare of anger crosses his mind, stronger than anything. Yet he controls himself, forcing him to nod, say something polite, before he runs off. Sneaking into Fenris' mansion is unbelievably easy, and he instantly hears voices in the room above. He sneaks over to right behind the door, and looks in.

The world, or the Chantry at least, wishes he hadn't.

Lying on the rug next to the fire, Hawke's body glows under the light. Her head's tilted back, her face contorted in pleasure as her hands tightened their grip in the white hair above her. Fenris rolls his hips, and a moan escapes her lips, a sound that goes straight to Anders' nether regions. Pulling her close, the elf kisses her, long and loving and from what Anders' can see, with a lot of tongue. She shudders, flipping them around so that she was on top, and giving Anders a oh so nice view of her ass. Bouncing up and down, Anders watches at the former slave's hands squeezed her breasts, rolls her nipples between his fingers. The mage shoves his hand in his robes, giving his own erection a harsh squeeze. He bites his lip, not allowing the moans to move past his lips. Several minutes pass this way, until Fenris gasps, his face contorting. They smile at each other, and her smile is so open, so free, that Anders stifles a growl.

"I have missed you..." The elf buries his face in her dark red hair, his hands drawing circles on her hips.

"As I have missed you." She whispers, tightening her grip on his waist. "I'm so happy we finally talked, the past years have felt so empty. If it hadn't been for Varric..."

A wave of anger, sadness and betrayal washes over Anders and it's so intense that he reaches out blindly towards the wall for stability. Varric? The dwarf? How dare she claim that he is a better friend than Anders? That he is the one who has helped her, has been by her side? Anders has done everything for her, for their cause! Fury erupts from his chest now, blinding him and causing him to grip the wall tighter. She chooses that mage hater, that elf, over him? When he has given her the world? When he was going to give her the greatest gift that any mage could ever offer? He's so full of anger and hate and betrayal that he misses Fenris' last words.

"I must remember to thank him then." Fenris grins, pulling her close once more. He kisses her again, and his hands drift lower.

He sits by that door for at least another hour. When he leaves there is only one thought in his head.

He hates him more than anything in this world.

"Why? Can't you at least tell me?" Her voice, pleading with him as he slings his bag over his shoulder. "Anders, I can help you if you'll just let me in!"

"Tell me Hawke, are you a true supporter? Or are you just words, not willing to do the dirty work?" His chest still throbs, and his anger allows the words to come out.

She looks bewildered and hurt, her eyes wide as she looks at him. "How dare you suggest that I, after all I've done for you, what I did with Ella!"

"Prove it Hawke. Help me and prove it." His voice is cold, and her eyes widen a little more before they harden over, becoming sharp emeralds.

"Fine. But don't think I'll ever forget how you blackmailed me into this." She whispers, her voice taking on a hard, flat edge.

Don't think he'll ever forget how she looked at him at that day.

"Meredith, stop this now!" Hawke runs forward, the black threads in her braid catching Anders' attention. "Please, there is still a chance to be reasonable!"

"The Grand Cleric will decide your fate!" Meredith steps forward, intent on getting inside the Chantry. Hawke and Orsino continue to argue, each of them following the Templar up the stairs.

"No!" Anders shouts, and they all turn to look at him. Meredith stares at him with contempt, while Orsino's eyes hold nothing but plain, naive curiosity. But Hawke, Hawke's eyes are the ones he looks at. Confused, with a hint of annoyance, he stares deep into them as he says his next words. "There can be no more compromises!"

The explosion is loud, and all of the others, Varric, Isabela, and Merrill, all turn around to look, and when they see, to try and desperately run to cover. She doesn't. She stands there, her eyes focused on him alone, for the first time since they met. This time though, he doesn't see the curiosity, the excitement, the determination. This time he sees first confusion, then shock, and finally betrayal.

"HAWKE!" Varric screams, dropping Bianca and making a mad dash towards her. He never stops running, Anders realizes vaguely. He simply wraps his arms around her waist and they both fall, the dwarf covering her body as the debris rained down.

They all lay there, Meredith and Orsino sprawled across the ground, while Isabela had somehow managed to land on feet, and therefore had dragged a fallen Merrill behind a wagon. Varric and Hawke simply lay on the ground, the dwarf whispering something in her ear and receiving a shaky nod in response.

Then it ends. The debris stops falling and everyone jumps up. He settles himself down on a crate, his back facing the others. He hears the yelling but doesn't really take in the words, doesn't really care anymore. It had to be done, and when all the yelling was over, she would understand. There are other footsteps, and suddenly there's Aveline, crushing Hawke to her as she rants about leaving her behind. Fenris is not far behind, and as hard as he tries he can't block out the whispering between the two of them, the way his voice gets tender and soft. Then there's more talking, the other's voicing their opinions, bouncing points and ideas off of each other. It goes quiet, and he begins to wonder if they've all killed each other somehow. But then he hears something that sounds like a threat, and then there's the sound of Meredith's metal boots against the stone, the rough bark of her voice as she yells at her men. There's another noise, one that's foreign, and makes Anders, despite his intent, turn around. Standing there, in full Gray Warden armor, is Carver.

"Sister, I came as soon as I could." Carver steps forward, reaching for his sister without even bothering to ask for permission. "I heard there was unrest from Mahariel and I wanted to come faster I swear it but the damn horse-"

"It's okay, you're here now, that's all that matters." Carver crushes her against his chest, and Anders watches with growing jealousy how she wraps her arms around his waist, burying her head in her chest. "I-there is so much to say, Carver..."

"Later sister, after we stop the Templars." The younger Hawke grins down at his sister, and Anders' feels another flare of jealousy at how the Wardens have changed him, made him a better man. "There will be plenty of time to talk this all over Sister, I promise you."

She nods, hugging him closer before she steps back, wiping under her eyes with her hands. He sends her a reassuring grin before gently pushing towards the ruined Chantry, towards him. He watches as her face hardens, the happiness that had only moments before been present replaced with betrayal. She walks quickly towards him, and when she reaches him she yanks him to stand.

"What where you thinking?" She hisses, her eyes flashing angrily. "Do you know what you've done? The hundreds you've sentenced to die today?"

Confusion hits him. She ought to be happy, or at least understanding. He did it for mage's rights, for the freedom of all those who had been forced into the circle. She should understand!

"Did you not hear me Anders?" She hisses, leaning in even closer. "Was this what you were planning when you asked me to talk to-by the Maker it was!"

"You ought to understand!" He finally finds his voice, the anger clear. "I did this for you. For us."

"What? Us?" She tilts her head, and the confusion deepens, but this time hurt begins to seep in too, mixing and churning among her eyes. "Anders, I don't get what you're-"

"Us! You and me! Me and you!" He screams, pulling her closer to him, looking deep into her eyes. "Me and you, not you and him. Never you and him."

"Anders...I...please don't tell me that you did this for me?" She whispers, horror and tears growing in her eyes. "I thought you knew..."

"Knew what? That you were sleeping with that mage hater? Do you know what he would do to us if given the choice?" He hisses, so close to her now that their noses were touching. "I did this because you and me understand this was what was needed to be done. That this was the only future for us, for any mage out there. So yes, I did it for you."

"By the Maker..." She covers her mouth, a sob escaping her. "All that stuff you said when we were in the Sewers...I am no savior, no idol that you can put on a pedestal and stare at! I am a human being, and I have done everything in my power to help mages, to help you! Yet you can't see past the one little thing that I took for myself, the one thing that I didn't let this crusade of yours dictate!"

He growls, and an anger unlike anything he's every felt flows through him, filling in the crevices of his soul. He grabs her, and before any of them can react, before she can react, he's kissing her. It's all teeth and tongue, and it's horribly one sided. Pushing his tongue into her mouth he tastes her, lets himself run his tongue alone her teeth, mapping out her mouth on the one time, the only time, he'll be there. She simply stands there, limp in his grasp. He doesn't know if it's shock, or if it's pity but he doesn't care, it's his one shot and by the Maker he's going to take it. Air however, quickly becomes a necessary thing, and he's forced to pull away.

"I would have been better to you than he every was." He whispers harshly, leaning in so that his breath rushed over her ear. "I loved you more than anyone, anything, in this world."

"Obviously not more than anything." She whispers back, and she steps back slowly, pity, sadness and tears clear in her eyes. "Or else you wouldn't have done this."

He can't find the words to respond, and for the first time, even Justice is quiet.

She doesn't kill him, of course, and neither do any of her friends. Fenris, Aveline, Isabela and Anders run ahead to find a boat, the pirate captain teaching them how to hide their steps. It's obvious how disgusted with him they all are, Aveline and Isabela whispering quietly when they thought he wasn't looking. Carver, Varric and Merrill go with Hawke, and they fight their way through. Anders hears the roars of the ogres as they fall, the thud as the giant beasts crash against the stones. They are not waiting for more than ten minutes before they arrive, both Hawke's leading the way. They all sit close together, and by extension, far away from him. Fenris stands at the bow of the boat, looking out at the Gallows as if there was some great secret waiting for him. Hawke, Carver, Aveline and Varric all sit in a circle, while Isabela and Merrill lean against some crates. It's silent for the most part, the sounds of waves the only things that interrupt his thoughts. Fenris comes back towards them to announce that they are getting close, and Hawke gives him, gives everyone, a impish grin before standing up.

"Let's go get those sons of bitches." Everyone laughs, and they all high five as they get ready to pile off the boat.

In the first time since arriving in Kirkwall, Anders feels utterly alone.

There's fire and smoke everywhere, and Anders feels lost and confused, but then it all stops. He watches as Cullen lets them go, watches as Carver wraps his arm around his sister's waist, Hawke's own arm around his shoulders. Varric is close behind them, his face dirty and a little bloody but otherwise unharmed. The two of them begin to slowly walk towards the gate of the Gallows, Aveline cradling her shield arm as Fenris walks by her side, her shield safely tucked under his arm. Merrill and Isabela follow closely behind, Merrill's voice standing out as she asks Isabela where it hurts. He rushes after them, lingering behind as they make their way towards the small boat at the dock. Carver goes first, gently helping Hawke into the boat, his voice gently chiding her when she moves too much. Varric hops in soon afterwords, supporting Carver's statement about Hawke not moving. Aveline protests weakly when it is her turn, saying something about Donnic and needing to go back. Fenris ignores her, picking her up and placing in the boat before following himself. It is slightly awkward for a moment before the elf's voice, low and now only for Aveline's ears, promises her he will come back for her husband. Merrill hops in next, grinning happily as Isabela follows, granted at a much slower pace. Anders steps forward, and his foot is on the boat before Carver manages to get Hawke to- "Sit still and let me deal with this sister, you need to let Merrill heal you.". The Warden steps forward, and for a moment Anders can't remember when exactly the young, spoiled boy grew up and became a warrior, but Carver certainly was the latter.

"This is where we go our separate ways Mage." The Warden's voice is cold, and brokers no room for argument. "I know my sister said that she would not hurt you, and I stand by that promise. Yet we are now fugitives from the Chantry, a force that has no one base. There is only one way out."

"I will go with you, I will do whatever is necessary to redeem-" Anders says, cut off by the Warden again.

"No. You may be able to redeem yourself in my sister's eyes, for I cannot speak for her. But I can speak for the Gray Wardens when I say you will never be forgiven."

"You cannot take her to them!" Justice lurches within him again, anger rushing through his veins. "I will not let you!"

"You have no choice." Carver stares him down, his eyes oh so like his sisters. "The Wardens is the one place where we will all be safe from the Chantry. I care not where you go Mage, or what you do. Farewell."

With those words the Warden unties the rope, and the boat pushes away from the dock. Carver moves towards the tiller, letting loose the sail as he goes. Hawke, with a wince on her face that Anders can still see, crawls her way over to her brother, tugging on his tunic to get his attention. He watches as Carver looks down, a look of fond exasperation on his face as he runs his hand through her hair, the black threads hanging loose. Varric, just realizing now that Hawke had crawled away, comes tumbling after her. He watches Fenris comfort Aveline as he sets her arm, the proud woman's grimace as he pops the bone back. He binds it with a piece of white cloth, and Anders watches as his lips form words, something about always keeping promises. There's a glow around Isabela, Merrill nearby trying to heal the cuts that adorned the pirate's arms. They all look exhausted, their eyes slightly glazed over as they all sail away. Yet they all look happy to be with each, all catching each others eyes, a smile, small or large, on each of their lips.

They never once look back.

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Disclaimer: So what do you think?


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